


Fireflies

by frumplebump



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angstshipping - Freeform, Established Relationship, Ice Play, M/M, Post-Canon, Sexual Content, Slice of Life, consider that rating a hard M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumplebump/pseuds/frumplebump
Summary: Ice cubes and fireflies and summer storms and sex
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Malik Ishtar
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> This follows Host and Midwinter (and is, in fact, pretty much Midwinter again, except summer-flavored and not mournful), but can be read alone.

“Wait, fireflies really exist?”

“Hmm?” Ryou was settled on the floor in front of the couch, lost in the sensation of Malik’s fingers combing through his hair as he braided it. He hadn’t been paying any attention to the program on tv. Blinking his eyes open, he saw that NHK was playing a clip about the midsummer firefly festivals happening around the country. “What, you thought fireflies were a myth?”

“I thought they were imaginary creatures. Like fairies or something.”

Ryou dissolved into giggles. “They’re beetles!”

“To be fair,” Malik said, giving his braid a playful tug, “I’ve met people who were surprised that scarabs are real insects. Besides, when was I supposed to be running around catching fireflies? I’ve lived my whole life either in a tomb or in big cities. And this is my first summer in Japan.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I laughed at you,” Ryou said, still chuckling. He leaned his cheek against Malik’s knee. “So are you interested in going to one of those festivals?”

Ryou felt Malik’s body move as he shrugged. “I don’t know. The weather’s been so gross lately that doing anything outside doesn’t sound like much fun.”

Ryou nodded. A record-breaking heat wave was smothering the city, and the humidity felt thick enough to choke on. They’d waited until evening to go grocery shopping, but even after sunset, the streets throbbed with oppressive warmth. They came home sticky and cranky and irritated that the air conditioner, despite rattling away at full blast, could barely cope with the temperature. As soon as the groceries were put away, Ryou crammed a handful of ice cubes into a tall glass and trickled in just enough tap water to fill the empty space. He sipped it like it was the finest of luxuries, but when he offered Malik the same, Malik wrinkled his nose and grabbed a bottle of cold tea from the refrigerator instead.

“On the other hand,” Malik said, waving at the tv, “that looks really cool.”

The screen showed a twilight forest of inky greens and blues, sparkling with the light of hundreds of fireflies that floated through the air like tiny paper lanterns.

“Yeah,” Ryou agreed. “There are fireflies in the park sometimes, and we used to have them in our yard when I was a kid, but I’ve never seen anything like that.” He slipped an ice cube from the glass into his mouth, sucking on it like hard candy as he gazed at the tv. “That really is beautiful. I can see why you’d think they weren’t real.”

“ _Thank_ you.” Malik bent down and kissed the crown of Ryou’s head, then patted his shoulder to let Ryou know he was done playing with his hair. Ryou stood up, scooping the braid off the nape of his neck with one hand. It was a relief to feel the air on his skin.

“You look pretty damn cute like that,” Malik said.

“Thanks. Want me to do yours?”

Malik smirked. “I want you to do me.”

Ryou laughed, climbing onto the couch to straddle Malik’s legs. “You’re not too hot for that?”

“I know I’m hot, but isn’t that the point?”

“Ha, ha.” Ryou dropped a teasing kiss onto the tip of Malik’s nose, and was startled when Malik yelped. “What?”

“Your lips are so cold! Gods, why do you have to _eat_ the ice?”

Ryou reached for the glass behind him and eased another ice cube into his mouth. “It’s tasty,” he said as he crunched down on it.

“It is not, it’s— _nnng_!” Malik squirmed as Ryou pressed his chilled lips to the tender spot just behind Malik’s earlobe.

“You don’t like this?” Ryou teased.

“You’re a demon.”

“I learned from the best,” Ryou said drily. He switched the glass to his other hand, and shoved his cold fingers under Malik’s tank top, dancing them across his stomach.

Malik shrieked, thrashing to escape the freezing, tickling fingertips. Ryou laughed as he sucked another ice cube into his mouth. Pulling the neck of Malik’s top down, he balanced the slippery ice between his lips and trailed it across the upper part of Malik’s chest. Malik’s response to that was less frantic, although he still tried to twitch away. “How’s that?” Ryou asked.

“Give me that glass,” Malik said. He tipped an ice cube into his own mouth, then grabbed Ryou’s shoulders and pulled him closer. Ryou shivered as Malik ran the ice up his neck, from his collarbone to his chin and then back down, tracing the line of his throat as Ryou tossed back his head in pleasure.

“Mm, again,” Ryou demanded.

Malik plucked the melting ice from his lips, then laughed. “I think this is doing a lot more for you than it does for me.”

“We should keep testing that—ah!” He gasped as Malik’s mouth and another ice cube moved across the curve between his neck and shoulder.

Malik patted his thigh. “Glass is empty,” he said. “Let me get more.”

Ryou shifted backwards to let Malik stand up. He waited until Malik went into the kitchen, then yanked his shirt up and off, dropped it on the floor, and darted into the bedroom.

Malik appeared in the doorway a moment later, the glass in one hand and Ryou’s shirt dangling from a finger of the other. “You get too hot for this?” he asked, smirking.

“Yeah. Hurry up with that ice.”

Malik’s smirk softened into a delighted grin as he set the glass down and pulled his own top off. “I love seeing you like this,” he said, his voice low. “Quiet, polite Ryou, all worked up…” He put an ice cube in his mouth as Ryou whined impatiently, then crawled onto the bed next to him. Lowering his head, he swept the ice from the hollow of Ryou’s throat down to his sternum. Ryou watched him, gasping, and when Malik shifted a little towards the side of Ryou’s chest and raised his eyebrows for permission, Ryou nodded eagerly. The sensation of the ice rolling around and over his nipple made him bite his lip and squeeze his eyes shut; it was like a honed spike of pleasure piercing deliciously into him.

“You okay?” Malik asked.

“Yes!” He was frustrated that Malik was using his mouth for something other than pulling ice across his skin. Malik heard the snap in his voice, and chuckled at him as he reached for the glass.

Malik switched to Ryou’s other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention until the ice melted. He ran ice cubes up and down Ryou’s quivering abdomen until the water beaded like sweat and dripped down the sides of his body. He pressed his cold mouth against Ryou’s, let Ryou’s hot tongue curl ravenously around his own icy one. He painted the ridges of Ryou’s collarbone and ribs and hips with freezing water. Tugging Ryou’s shorts off, he teased chilled fingertips up and down the juncture of his thighs and body until Ryou was trembling.

“Should I get more ice?” Malik asked, realizing the glass was empty.

Ryou shook his head. All of his nerves were gloriously alive, zapping like sparklers, demanding Malik’s body pressed against him and inside him. “Fuck me.”

Malik exhaled sharply at Ryou’s words, running his tongue across his lip as he stripped off his own shorts. He lowered himself onto Ryou, then grimaced as their torsos pressed together. “You’re all wet and cold,” he laughed.

“I feel fantastic.”

Malik kissed him. “I’m going to make you feel even better, habibi,” he said as he reached for their lube. Malik’s fingers were still chilly from the ice as he eased them inside Ryou, and Ryou gasped ecstatically, bucking into his touch.

Then Malik was in him, filling him, consuming him like flames. The chill vanished from Ryou’s skin as Malik rocked against him. Malik was always so warm, as if he carried sunlight in his veins, but now the contrast was dizzying. Ryou lost himself to the feel of the fiery skin under his palms, the sweat slicking them both, the warm breath against his neck. Pleasure swept him like a bird riding a swell of hot air, pushing him swiftly upwards until finally, with a burst of sweet relief, he peaked. Then he was falling backwards, dizzy, trembling on the electric edge of overstimulation. After a moment he recovered enough to hitch up against Malik, urging him to his own climax, and wrapped his arms around him as Malik dropped onto his chest with a blissful groan.

Malik eased himself away after a moment. Ryou was dimly aware of him getting up and leaving the room. His mind was still so untethered that he was startled by the gentle, cool touch on his belly as Malik cleaned him up with a damp washcloth.

“Damn,” Malik said, settling at Ryou’s side again. He smoothed a strand of Ryou’s hair back from his sticky forehead; the braid had come completely undone. “That was hot.”

Ryou shook his head weakly from side to side. “Hm-mm. It was mostly cold.”

“You’re awful.” Malik kissed his temple. “I love you.”

* * *

“I have an idea,” Ryou said.

“What’s that?”

“I think we should go out sometime and look for fireflies, since it _is_ your first summer in Japan and you’ve never seen them. And we could go to one of those festivals while we’re at it. I found one that’s not too far from here.” He pulled up the website on his laptop, scrolling down the page as he spoke. “It seems like it’s pretty small, but I thought that might be nice since it won’t be too crowded. And the only fireflies involved are the ones that already live around there—they don’t bring in a bunch to release like they do at the big festivals.” Ryou glanced up. Malik hadn’t shown any response yet, wasn’t even looking at him. “Anyway…” he continued, “the weather’s supposed to cool down a little this weekend. I thought it might be fun to check out this festival, and then go look for fireflies. Or we could skip the festival and just see the fireflies if you want. Or… Malik…?”

“Mm? Yeah.” Malik nodded absently. “Sure, sounds fun. Let’s go.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Malik protested. He grabbed the tv remote and flipped listlessly through the channels. “I said let’s go. I want to see the fireflies.”

Malik had his face turned towards the tv, but even in profile, Ryou knew that he was keeping his expression rigidly neutral; he could read the taut line at the back of Malik’s jaw. He wasn’t sure what was bothering Malik. Lately Malik’s emotions had flowed along calm and steady, and he’d been relaxed this evening, until Ryou brought up the fireflies. Ryou frowned. Malik had seemed interested enough when he saw the NHK program yesterday. The festival footage was nothing too thrilling, but there wasn’t anything off-putting about it either, just shots of kids snacking on skewers and musicians playing instruments and people traipsing into the darkness to see the fireflies come out—

“Oh,” Ryou said.

Malik gave him a wary look.

“We don’t have to go. I’m sorry, Malik, I wasn’t thinking.” He’d gotten so used to letting the hall light spill into their bedroom through the night that he had stopped thinking about why they left it on. “If you don’t want to be out in the dark—”

“I’m not a child,” Malik snapped. “I’m not _scared_ of the dark.” He wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing his forearms absently. “I just don’t really like staring into it.”

“Then let’s not—”

“Stop. I want to go. I want to see the gods-damned fireflies!” His somber expression broke as he heard himself, and he started giggling.

Ryou’s sigh shifted into a relieved chuckle. “Okay, okay. The festival is on through the end of this weekend, so let’s go tomorrow.”

Late the next afternoon, they caught the train out to the suburbs, then boarded a bus that shuddered and bumped its way to the center of a tiny town. As they disembarked with a dozen other tourists, a faint rumble of thunder rolled in the distance.

Malik wrinkled his nose. “Great timing.”

“It might not rain,” Ryou said. “It might just be a summer lightning storm. But if you’d rather—”

“Nope,” Malik cut him off. “We came this far. We’re doing this.”

They wandered through the town, following the signs that pointed them to the shopping street where the festival stalls were set up. A modest crowd of visitors meandered around, and the air was rich with the smell of grilling food. Almost every stall seemed to be selling something to eat or drink, and the rest were hawking souvenirs and plastic lights that flashed in a gaudy rainbow of colors.

Malik and Ryou threaded their way between the lines of people waiting to purchase food. They’d eaten bentos on the train for an early dinner, but Ryou still tugged Malik to a halt to buy a few skewers of yakitori, and then they both got ice cream from a vendor near the end of the street. They stood a little apart from the crowd, listening to the buzz of overlapping conversations and laughter. Other than the prevalence of light-up trinkets and toys, there wasn’t much to distinguish this event from any other street festival they’d been to.

“There’s a festival for just about everything in Japan, isn’t there?” Malik observed.

Ryou considered this as he licked his ice cream. “Everything that’s short-lived and pretty and reminds you of the passage of time, I’d say. The things that give you that feeling of _mono no aware_.”

Malik shifted, close enough that Ryou could feel the warmth radiating from him even in the humid evening air. “Celebrating transience… seems kind of sad.”

“Yes, it is,” Ryou said. “A gentle, beautiful sadness.”

Malik smiled at him, the soft, adoring smile that made Ryou’s hands tingle and his breath catch in his throat. Ryou wanted to kiss him, but settled for brushing his fingertips down Malik’s arm.

The last of the sunset was fading from the sky, leaving behind a faint splash of rose gold. Like a school of fish, the festival-goers began shifting in the direction of the nearby field. Ryou unfolded the flier he’d picked up at the head of the festival street and pointed to the cartoonish fireflies marking the recommended viewing areas. “Want to go look at some bugs?”

“Let’s. And let’s see if we can get out ahead of—” Malik nodded at the kids bashing each other with glowing plastic swords. “—That.”

Walking briskly, they outpaced the sedate ramble of most of the other festival-goers, then slowed down again once they were nearly alone. By then, the glow of the town looked distant, but feeble solar-powered stake lights sprouted from the grass every few meters to mark the way. The path led across the field to a stream, then ran alongside the water. The opposite bank of the stream lapped at the edge of a forest whose trees were discernible only as denser shadows looming out of the twilight. Malik’s arm bumped against Ryou’s as they walked, and Ryou leaned into it, pressing their shoulders together. He heard Malik’s quiet huff, part protest and part thanks.

Ryou squinted into the gloom. He felt like he’d seen a few fireflies already, but their flashes were so brief and far apart that he was never looking quite in the right place. He chewed his lip, fretting that they were too early in the evening, or too late in the season—

And then, as if on cue, the field and the forest began to light up. First a dozen, then a score, then hundreds of flashes twinkled in the darkness. The yellow-green lights rose like sparks, glowing, drifting, fading and then reigniting again in a bright flare. They sang in soundless harmony, each glow pulsing like a clear, bright note shimmering through the air before sliding gracefully into a silence filled again by a hundred more lights.

“Wow,” Malik breathed. He paused on the path, turning in a slow circle to watch the fireflies dancing around them.

“Look.” Ryou pointed to a firefly floating just above the grass near their legs. It illuminated as Ryou gently cupped his hands around it. He raised it towards Malik, feeling the tickle of the insect’s feet as it crawled over his skin. Carefully, he lifted one hand. The firefly stayed on his palm for a moment as they squinted at it in the dim light; then it flared again, taking off and darting into the night.

Malik laughed softly. “They really are just beetles.”

“Yep. Sorry, no magical creatures here.”

“This is still a little magical.” He slipped his hand into Ryou’s, lacing their fingers together. The shadows were permissive, benign, cloaking their affection in the privacy of night. Ryou squeezed Malik’s hand and let their fingers stay linked as they kept walking.

By the time they reached the end of the path, night had settled fully all around them, a rich indigo shot through with luminescent glitter. Instead of looking at the fireflies, Ryou looked at Malik, watching the way his gaze traced their flares. In the faint light, he could just barely see the smile playing on Malik’s face and the little crinkle of pleasure around his eyes.

“Are you having fun?” Ryou asked.

“Yeah. The darkness out here isn’t like what I imagined.” Malik’s thumb rubbed the side of Ryou’s hand. “It’s… peaceful. Staring into the dark isn’t so bad when you’re looking for light.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “And I know exactly how corny that sounds.”

“Terribly,” Ryou agreed, then leaned close and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “But I’m happy to hear you say that.”

As they turned back towards the town, a restless wind combed through the grass. The muffled rumbles of thunder became louder and more insistent, and lightning flickered behind the clouds. They boarded the bus in a thin drizzle of rain that beaded on the windows and caught the street lights like flashes of gold.

The storm followed them back to Domino. When they walked out of the subway station in their neighborhood, a hard, hissing rain was sweeping the streets in undulating sheets. They struggled to get their umbrellas up, only to have the wind toss the rain sideways at them, pelting them with water from their shoulders down. “Fuck it,” Malik laughed, closing his umbrella. “I’m already soaked anyway.”

Ryou did the same. “It feels good,” he said, turning his face up to the electrified sky and letting the rain rinse away the sweat that prickled at his hairline. “The heat’s finally broken.” Thunder clattered overhead as they dashed home, giggling at the spongy, sloppy feeling of their soaked clothes and shoes. When they reached the apartment, they stood in the doorway shaking water from their arms and wringing out their hair. “Take off your clothes,” Ryou said, wriggling out of his clammy shirt and dropping it to the linoleum tiles.

Malik raised an eyebrow. “Yes, sir.”

“I don’t want to make a mess all over the apartment!” Ryou laughed, then reached out and unfastened Malik’s belt buckle.

They stripped in the entryway, leaving their clothes in a sopping pile. Ryou tried to bundle his hair back and was met with a damp, frizzy mess that clung to his skin like tentacles. “Shower?” he asked.

“Good idea.”

The breeze from the air conditioner nipped at their skin as they scurried down the hall. Despite how hot it had been every single day for weeks, it was a relief when curls of steam started to fill the bathroom. “What is it about getting drenched in the rain that makes a warm shower so appealing?” Ryou asked, as he stepped under the water.

“I don’t know, but it’s glorious.” Malik looped his arms around Ryou’s waist and shifted him to get them both under the spray. “It sounds stupid, but this kind of thing makes me glad I’m alive.”

“It’s not stupid at all. That’s how I feel, too,” Ryou said, tilting his head up to brush his nose against Malik’s. “And the best part is that I get to share all these mundane, amazing little things with you.”

Malik fit his mouth against Ryou’s, moving their lips together in a long, languid kiss. “That’s the best part for me, too,” he murmured. “That you’re here with me for all of it.”

They stood in each other’s arms, trading kisses back and forth, running their hands over the slick skin of each other’s bodies until they were both panting with impatience. They hurried through washing their hair and rinsing off; by the time they made it to the bedroom Ryou was aching.

Malik dropped the towel from his waist and reclined on the bed. Even damp from the shower, his hair gleamed like burnished gold. The lamplight made his skin glow where it touched him and left his opposite side in soft shadows that contoured the planes of his muscles. His eyes glittered as he watched Ryou stare at him. “Are you okay, habibi?”

“I will never get over how gorgeous you are,” Ryou sighed. He climbed onto the bed and spread Malik’s thighs, watching Malik’s eyes widen in anticipation. 

Ryou took his time, despite how eager they both were. He loved these moments, wanted to stretch them out like spider silk until they were so tense and delicate that a sigh, a kiss, the brush of Malik’s foot against his leg would make them snap. Tonight it was Malik’s fingers locking around his wrist and coaxing him to move faster that made him shiver with impatience. His eyes fluttered closed in relief as he pushed into Malik’s familiar warmth.

Malik slung his legs around Ryou’s waist and draped his arms over his shoulders, pulling him in close. Ryou couldn’t move as quickly like this, but each thrust was deep and satisfying and achingly intimate. “I love you, Malik,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Ryou.” The kiss Malik gave him was an intoxicating mess of lips and tongues and gasping breaths as they hitched against each other.

The pleasure built in him beat by beat, filling him, swelling tight against the inside of his ribcage. He slipped one hand between their bodies to stroke Malik, and Malik loosened his grip on Ryou to let him thrust faster. “M-Malik—I’m—”

“Yes, Ryou,” Malik cried, arching his neck, “yes, yes, oh _fuck_ yes—”

The throes of Malik’s climax swept Ryou along with him. Ryou held himself up with his free arm as sparks flashed behind his eyelids, then collapsed, panting, into Malik’s embrace.

Eventually Ryou shifted off of Malik and fitted himself to his side. “That’s another thing that makes me glad to be alive with you.”

“Me too.” Malik turned over, spooning against Ryou, and tugged Ryou’s arm over his waist. 

Ryou hugged Malik’s back to his chest and buried his nose in Malik’s hair, breathing in the scent of shampoo and fresh sweat. “Can we do this forever?” he murmured. _This_ —basking in the afterglow of sex, but also caressing each other in the shower, and getting caught in a downpour, and holding hands in the dark as they watched the fireflies. _This_ —sweating through heavy summer days, complaining about the air conditioner; fingers braiding damp hair and cracking trays of ice cubes into empty glasses. _This_ quiet unspooling of little moments that meant almost nothing, except they meant everything because Malik was there laughing or smiling or groaning or sighing with him.

Malik tightened his hand on Ryou’s, and Ryou knew he understood the thousands of days, the uncountable hours bound up in that small word. “I’d love to,” he said.


End file.
